Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot
by The Last Evenstar
Summary: An elaboration on the one sentance from RotK that describes Aragorn's and Arwen's wedding. What will go wrong? Everything that possibly can! NOW COMPLETE! (Cue: Jump for Joy)
1. Introduction and The Arrival

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot By The Last Evenstar  
  
Chapter 1: Introduction and Arrival  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, or scenarios mentioned in this fic. Neither does Tolkien; he is dead. No, my precious Aragorn is, alas, owned by the fat cats at Houton Mifflin, but I am working on a rescue mission and he will soon be mine. The rest of them can stay there, with the possible exception of Arwen, Elladen, and Elrohir.  
  
A/N: I have noted many times while reading RotK that the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen, the King and Queen of Gondor, merited only a single sentence. I have thus interpreted it as I see fit, while trying to keep the characters in character and the events semi-realistic. As always, I welcome criticism and worship alike.  
  
Arwen strained her Elven eyes to their extent. In the distance she could make out a procession of riders, coming her way. She squinted into the fading sunlight, trying to discern the dark shapes approaching. As soon as the figures became clear she lept up joyfully and made her way to the road to wait. In a matter of minutes the procession arrived in a cloud of horses and humans, cenetered arround a tall man with mangy hair and dark stubble gracing his tan cheeks. When he saw Arwen, he dismounted quickly and ran to her, gathering the limber Elf in his arms and swinging her about with a joyful light in his eyes that Arwen had never seen before. "We've done it, my Lady! The war is won!"  
Arwen laughed at the man's eagerness. "I know! Why do you think I'm here?"  
He looked down at her with an adoring smile. "You tell me." All of a sudden he kissed her, in plain view of his companions; a soft, yearning kiss that made her senses reel and the world glow with radient light.  
Aragorn was home at last.  
  
R&R, and the next chapters will all be funny, I swear! 


	2. The Bachelor Parties, Part One

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Chapter Two: The Bachelor and Bachelorette Parties

Aragorn surveyed the room with appraising eyes. "Far grander than what I've grown accustomed to."

Legolas laughed in a friendly manner. "You had best get used to it soon, King of Gondor!"

Gimli, for one, was less concerned with the elaborately decorated room than with the purpose for which it had been adorned. "What are we waiting for? Let's have us some ale!"

Elrohir shuddered at the mention of the vile drink. "No thanks! Only pure Miruvor for me!"

Gimli shrugged and plopped himself down at the low wooden table. "You elves!"

Elrond, popping his head into the room, narrowed his eyes at the crowd of men. He turned his focus on the groom. "Aragorn, I'm going to let you and your companions have fun tonight, but be warned, for I will be watching you at all times." Aragorn saw Faramir wince at the thought. "And Arwen will be having her bachelorette party in the next room, so mind you keep it down!" With that pronouncement, he turned on his heel and glided silently away.

Faramir shuddered. "That is one creepy father-in-law I'm glad I don't have!"

Eomer looked disgusted. "Man, Wingfoot, you've really screwed yourself! Your fiancée in the next room and her father watching us like the eye of Sauron? This'll be a great party, all right!"

Arwen looked with apprehension at the eager faces before her. She didn't recognize a single maiden; they were all distant cousins and daughters of her father's friends. They looked at her as if expecting something.

She tried a greeting. "Um, hello! Thank you for coming!"

A blond elf-maiden to her left spoke up. "Not at all, Undomiel! We of the royal family of Mirkwood are all so, er, _happy_ for you!" She and her look-alikes began to titter. "Where did you register?"

"Register?"

A willowy cousin rose. "Register for gifts! I hope you went to Black Gate & Barrel – they're the best for household supplies!"

A redhead to her right scoffed. "Eru, can you BE any more naïve? She's going to be a queen! She doesn't need PLATES!" She turned to Arwen conspiratorially. "I'll bet you registered at Tiffany, right?"

Arwen felt flustered. "I didn't register anywhere. Was it really necessary?"

The whole congregation gasped collectively. "How – how will you know what you got?" whispered a young elf tremulously.

Arwen shrugged, confused by their attitude. "I don't really care all that much. The important thing is - "

"She's right!" The redhead stood again. "The MOST important thing is her dress. I'm sure everyone picked out nice gifts, but the perfect dress must have taken you ages to find! What does it look like?"

Arwen was glad of a question she could answer. "It didn't take ages at all! I went shopping with Gran a few afternoons ago. We found a nice little cream dress with a small train."

"Not white?"

"We couldn't find anything in white."

"But – but what will people THINK?" gasped a petite brunette.

"That I couldn't find anything nice in white?"

The conspiratorial redhead lowered her nose so she was face-to-face with Arwen. "They'll think you're not a virgin!"

Arwen gasped, her cheeks blotting red. "Is that the custom?"

"It is where I come from!" Nods came from around the room.

Arwen blushed. "Gran didn't say anything . . ."

"Well, she's very perceptive, Galadriel is." The redhead lowered her voice. "Do you think she might have . . . sensed something?"

Several elves shrieked.

Arwen lowered her eyes. "I'm not going to say anything until I've had a lot more to drink!"

Aragorn slammed his head down on the wooden table. His bachelor party was in full swing, and he wasn't having a bit of fun. Over in the center of the room, Eomer, Faramir, and a bunch of other warlords were dancing drunkenly to Eomer's heavy metal CDs. He groaned and held his head in his hands. _I'm supposed to be having fun! This is my bachelor party, for Eru's sake!_

Legolas came over and sat down, two drinks in his hands. He passed one to the scowling ranger. "What's getting you down?"

Aragorn shrugged. "I don't know! I mean, this is my one and only bachelor party! It's supposed to be fun!"

Legolas shook his head. "I don't think this is really your scene. You're a ranger; you prefer solitude, and open lands." The Elf grinned suddenly. "Not getting nervous about the big day, are you?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I'd much rather it come sooner than go through another hour of this." As if to prove his point, Gimli fell off of the bar top on which he had been dancing in his underwear. "I don't even want to know how that was started."

"I heard Eomer hired strippers. They should be here any minute now."

Aragorn looked incredulously at the Elf and took a long gulp of his drink. "WHAT?!?!"

Next up, Aragorn turns to alcohol to get through his "party" - a wise decision, considering he's getting married in the morning? And, is Eowyn hatching an evil plot? Plus, Arwen makes a shocking confession that ends in disaster!


	3. The Bachelor Parties, Part Two

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Chapter Three: The Bachelor and Bachelorette Parties, Part Two

Arwen was beginning to panic. "What are you doing?" she cried. Three of her guests were unwrapping all her wedding presents and tossing them about tipsily.

Antinua, the prying redhead, looked up at the bride, cross-eyed and giggling. "You got wonderful taupe stoneware sent all the way from Moria! And look at this glass decanter – made by the finest halfling glassblowers!"

Arwen sighed. _Where are these people coming from? Are they even elves? _She surveyed the trio critically. "You're drunk!"

Her pronouncement sent Antinua's blond cousin into a fit of hysterics. "You just noticed?"

All of a sudden, the third elf dropped a glass bowl she had been unwrapping. It shattered loudly. "Oops!"

"All right, girls, that's it!" Arwen attempted to drag them away from the pile of gifts. "I think you need to go lie down!"

In response, she was forced to duck, narrowly being missed by a flying glass swan – a tacky piece if she ever saw one. Deciding to forsake her gifts for the gift of life, she made her way uneasily across the room.

In a corner, her few mortal guests were whispering nervously. They were the Shieldmaidens of Gondor, positioned at Minas Tirith with Eowyn, Theoden's neice. Arwen had been introduced to them earlier that day, and they looked like they hadn't been drinking, so, smiling, she made her way to their table.

"Do you mind if it sit here?"

The squadron of blue-eyed, blond girls all looked nervously at Eowyn. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then broke into a suspicious smile. "Certainly. Pull up a chair."

Something in Eowyn's tone set off a warning signal in Arwen's head, but she chose to ignore it and sat down. "How are all of you faring?"

Eowyn smiled again, a smile that, for all its effort, looked forced. "Why do you ask?"

Arwen shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just not having very much fun, if you know what I mean. I've never seen elves act so . . . lowbrow before."

One shieldmaiden tittered nervously. "Maybe you should have hired strippers!"

Arwen blushed at the girl's audacity. "Oh, no! Elves are much too modest for that sort of behavior. Besides, it would feel very wrong. I mean, I'm getting married tomorrow!"

"So," Eowyn inquired, "you don't think Aragorn will hire any . . . entertainment?"

Arwen shook her head, glad of one stable presence in her life. "Never! We both agreed that it was a vile form of fun, even at one's bachelor party."

This time Eowyn broke into a true smile, if still a bit sly. "Why don't you go see him, then? He is right next door!"

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that! It's his party!"

"But what if he's as lonely for you as you are for him?" one girl interjected. "You would both like to see each other! After all, he's been gone for a long while, and you barely spent an afternoon together!"

Arwen considered. "Maybe in a little while. I just don't know if that would be proper."

Aragorn groaned. He, Legolas, and the other elves in attendance has been marooned in the corner for what felt like forever. Eomer had, indeed, produced a pack of strippers, an action which shocked and disgusted them.

"What I don't understand," said Legolas, shaking his head, "is why Eomer would do such a thing. He always seemed like a man of high moral rectitude to me!"

Aragorn shrugged. "I have no idea. I did think I knew him better than this!"

Elladen shuddered sadly. "Such horrible women! How low they have sunk!"

His brother agreed. "What a barbaric idea! I hope Father does not blame you, Estel."

Aragorn bit his lip. "Indeed, it may be a bad idea to let them stay any longer."

Legolas screwed up his face. "All these fine, warfaring men, acting like complete buffoons! This must be why elves do not brew ale."

Gandalf came over and sat down beside them. "Indeed. It pains me to see this lowest degradation of the race into which I have put my trust. And the hobbits!"

Across the room, the could hear Pippin lamenting. "Why must all these dancers be women and none of them halflings like us?"

Frodo nodded. "It was inconsiderate of Eomer, indeed."

"Mr. Frodo!" cried Sam, appalled. "Why would you want a female hobbit? You have me!"

Frodo began to cry. "I know I do, Sam!"

Back in the corner, Gandalf sighed. "I think I may have started something with the whole, 'Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee!'"

Aragorn groaned and took a long, long drink. He signaled blindly for another.

Arwen's despair increased as she found herself surrounded by eager elf-maidens. Grown tired of destroying her wedding gifts, they had taken to quizzing her about every trivial thing they could think of.

"What do the flowers look like?"

"Where will you live as Gondor's queen?"

"Not here, I hope! So dirty!"

"Quillanthe, what are you talking about? It's a lovely old romantic castle . . . thing."

"Will there be poached salmon at the reception?"

"He won't wear his sword to the alter, will he?"

"Who's your maiden of honor?"

"Who's his best man?

"Who's presiding?"

Antinua cleared her throat dizzily, silencing the rest. "There's one thing I want to know!"

Arwen groaned, her head in her hands. "One question, OK? That's it!"

The maiden shrugged. "That's fine. Earlier, when we discussed your wedding dress . . ." She trailed of, giggling slyly at the other girls. "And you said you weren't telling us something . . ."

Arwen gasped. "No! Oh, no! I'm not telling you that!"

The girls shrieked. "One question, you promised!"

"I did not promise. I take my promises very seriously."

Antinua looked at her sternly. "You did say you would. Just tell us, and we'll leave you alone!"

Arwen sighed, knowing she would regret this. "Yes, all right?" The elves all shrieked. "Just once. When . . ." Her eyes grew misty, remembering. "Before he left with the Fellowship. I was so afraid . . . we were so afraid . . . the we would never see one another again. And then he left, and I haven't seen him again until now."

A Rohirric shieldmaiden smirked. "That take not calling to a whole other level!"

Outside, the door, a sudden noise was heard. A strangled cry, and then a thud. Arwen gasped, and raced to the door. She opened it to find her father, slumped in a dead faint against the doorframe. "Oh, no!"

Several maidens gasped. "Oh, my! I guess he heard!"

Arwen paled. "Oh, no! Quick, someone call a healer!"

Several minutes later, her father resting comfortably but still out cold, Arwen made her way to the party next door. Worried sick about her father, she had to see Aragorn. _What if I gave him a heart attack?_ she chided herself. _He is very old, and half mortal!_

She burst open the door, hoping Aragorn wouldn't mind the interruption. _He's bound to be having as terrible a time as me. _"Estel! Come quick –"

She never finished her sentence, for upon gazing into the room she beheld a terrible sight. Everyone paused and turned to see the Elf, her mouth slightly open, look in shock at the scene around her and then turn and shut the door, her eyes brimming with tears.


	4. The Aftermath and Apology

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Chapter Four: The Aftermath and Apology

Arwen stopped about fifty feet down the hall. As glistening tears ran down her cheeks, she tried to think of an excuse. She waited for Aragorn to come running after her, to tell her it was all a big mistake. 

But no one came.

Legolas looked worriedly at the King, slumped down over the table in a corner. "How long has he been out?"

Elladen shrugged. "Men! They cannot hold their alcohol!"

Elrohir looked up, worried. "What about my sister? Someone has to tell her . . . I mean, she looked pretty upset!"

Gandalf began to give orders. "Legolas, you take Aragorn, put him down or something so he won't have such a massive hangover tomorrow. Elladen, Elrohir, go explain to your sister what happened. And Elrond, I'm sure he will not be pleased."

Faramir came rushing up, gulping down water as if his life depended on it. "Oh, I'm trying to think straight . . . Gandalf, Elrond had a heart attack or something, but don't worry, he's resting comfortably."

The twins gasped. "Is he all right? Does he need us?"

Gandalf shook his head. "He has many people to attend to him. Go find Arwen. Faramir, you get these strippers out of here, and tell Eomer I'll be wanting a word with him!"

Everyone rushed off to do as they were told. Gandalf sank into his chair and sighed. This was not turning into a promising affair.

Arwen made her way to her room, stumbling, half-blinded by tears. _There must be some excuse! Aragorn would never sink that low! _ Still, no matter what, he had let these . . . these _strippers_ continue their attendance. He hadn't done anything, he hadn't sent them out . . . but then again, why would he? They had been hired for HIS party.

She entered her room, fumbling around for a candle, when she saw that it was already occupied. "Aragorn?"

Her heart sank when she saw that it was only her brothers. "Oh. I suppose he sent you, did he?"

Elrohir wrinkled his nose. "Hardly. The King has been unconscious for most of the party."

Arwen sank onto he bed. "So he missed out on his lovely strippers, did he?"

The twins sat down beside her. Elladen spoke. "Oh, sister, it wasn't Estel who hired them! He was much appalled when they appeared."

Arwen looked up through tear-stained cheeks. 'Really? But he let them stay . . ."

Her brother grimaced. "Eomer hired them. None of us could fathom why, for the King of Rohan is usually a highly respectable man. Estel was looking to send them away, but things had gotten out of hand."

"He wanted nothing to do with them," Elrohir interjected. "We elves and Gandalf were all hiding in a corner."

Arwen sat up, sniffling. "Why is he unconscious?" She began to look worried. "Oh, what happened?"

Elrohir grimaced. "He was not enjoying the party. Sought to drink away his unhappiness, I suppose. Poor foolish Estel."

"How is he? Can I see him?"

Elladen shrugged. "Legolas took him to rest and be healed. We didn't want him unwell tomorrow morn."

"Of course." They sat in silence for a bit. Finally, Elladen spoke up:

"Is Ada all right, then?"

Arwen looked guilty. "I hope so."

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, few though they may number! Next installment promises to be longer, funnier, and fluffier. Will Elrond's attempts to stop the wedding be successful? What sabotage will Eowyn try next? And just what kind of trouble can Merry and Pippin get into when left unchecked in Minas Tirith?


	5. Everything Looks Brighter in the Morning

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Chapter Five: It Looks Brighter in the Morning

Elrond blinked once, then sat up slowly. In the bed next to him lay Estel, breathing peacefully. Looking around, he recognized a small sickroom at Minas Tirith. _Now how did I end up here?_ he wondered, trying to clear his head.

A knock on the door made him jump. "Enter!"

Arwen came in slowly, hiding her face in the shadows. "Good morn, Ada."

Elrond frowned at his daughter. There seemed to be a piece of information, something on the edge of his mind, that was escaping him. "What happened last night?"

Arwen looked up hopefully. "You don't remember?"

He thought hard. "You were having your bachelorette party . . . I don't seem to recall much beyond that. Were there any mumikil involved? Pink ones, perhaps?"

Arwen's expression changed to that of concern. "No, Ada. You passed out!"

He looked at the girl standing in front of him. "You know, I have a daughter who looks rather like you."

Arwen gasped. "Ada? It's me, Arwen . . . you knew me but a moment ago!"

Elrond wrinkled his forehead in contemplation. "That's right . . . Arwen. I was . . . joking."

She looked rather taken aback. "You? Joking? But, Ada –"

"Run along! I have many things to think about!"

As Arwen checked on Estel and hesitantly left the room, Elrond sank back down, worried. Not a lot was coming back to him, but, he recalled suddenly, there was a wedding taking place today. And . . . above all . . . it must be stopped!

Legolas and Halbarad made their way slowly down the hall. They stopped at the sickroom, where Aragorn lay alone, Elrond having been deemed well. The Elf noted the state of his friend and inquired anxiously,

"You do think he'll awake soon?"

The Ranger put a hand out to touch Aragorn's forehead. "No fever. He should be well enough, but he'll have a pretty bad hangover."

Legolas grimaced. "The wedding is in naught but two hours! The Lady Arwen has already begun to prepare!"

Halbarad shrugged. "Let's get 'im up, then." He shook the sleeping king. "Oi! You! Wake up!"

Sighing, Legolas pushed the human out of the way. "That's not the way at all!" He took a pitcher of water from beside the bed and dumped it on Aragorn's head.

The king sat up, sputtering. "Legolas! Halbarad! How dare . . . oh . . ." He trailed off, memories of last night returning. "Is Arwen very angry?"

Legolas almost laughed at the wet, forlorn, and pained expression on the King of Gondor. "The twins spoke to her. I believe she understood, for she was in here nursing you and Elrond most of the night."

Aragorn groaned. "Oh, dear! She deserves to sleep before the day og her wedding – that is, if it's still on."

Legolas' eyes twinkled. "You forget, mortal, that an elf can survive for days without rest or, indeed, much sustenance at all."

"How long do you think it takes to ride from Rivendell to Minas Tirith?"

Their conversation was cut short when Galadriel swung the door open. "Rise and shine, rangers and elves! Oh, what a beautiful morning! Come, come, you must prepare for the ceremony!"

Aragorn groaned and shielded his eyes from the brightness. "Not for naught do they call you Lady of the Light!"

Arwen twirled in front of the mirror. "It is nice, isn't it?"

Her grandfather smiled. "You look just like your mother on her wedding day."

Arwen's eyes misted over. "You will give her my best, won't you? And tell her why I could not come?"

Celeborn smiled sadly. "I will. Celebrian will understand."

"I wish she could be here."

"We all do."

Just then, Galadriel pranced in, her eyes merry. "I've arisen your woeful groom, my dear! My, you do look beautiful! Oh, Celeborn, she's the spitting image of her mother!"

"I was just saying so myself."

Arwen smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Gran. Where is Aragorn?"

"He's preparing in the chapel. Run along then!"

As Arwen left the room, Galadriel turned to her husband with a serious look. "Celeborn, I do think there is something wrong with Elrond! Why, just now, I caught him in deep conversation with some Rohirric lass! It sounded to me like they were plotting!"  
"Plotting? Plotting what, exactly?"

"I'm not sure! But do me a favor, will you?"

"Anything."

"Go find her. She's got long blond hair and frightful blue eyes. Keep her away from the wedding! I'll go find Elrond and do the same."

Celeborn bowed. "As you wish!"

"Pippin! Will you look at this!"

"What? What is it?"

"Food, Pippin! Come quick!"

The small hobbit scurried across the floor. Peering through the same door as his cousin, he gasped. There in a room, left unguarded, were the full contents of Strider's wedding feast! There were fruits and vegetables, succulent meats of all kinds, even currents and cakes! Pippin felt his stomach call out to the food. "So much! No one'll mind if we pinch just a bit, eh?"

Merry frowned. "Oh, Pip, I'm a night of Rohan now. It's not so easy."

"What d'you mean? Food's food!"

"I mean, I've got honor. Standards. I can't just –"

"Look, Merry! Cream pastries!"

Without another word, the two hobbits rushed into the kitchen and began to stuff their faces.

"Better take some for the ceremony! Never know when you'll get hungry, 'specially over long periods of time!"

"And the road! It's a long journey back to the Shire!"

"Could do with a bit more, even. It's not like we get food like this every day!"

"No one'll notice if the tomatoes are all gone, will they? It's not a big part of a meal . . ."

"Nor chocolate cake . . ."

"Nor ham . . ."

Arwen found her betrothed in the chapel, trying to understand through his headache exactly what he's be expected to do at the ceremony. She approached him quietly, and it took him several seconds to realize she was there.

"Arwen! Oh, excuse me for a moment . . ." He left Gondor's captains waiting and hurried toward her. "Arwen, I'm so sorry about last night . . . I have no idea what happened .. ."

She shook her head. "That's all right. Apparently it was Eomer's fault."

He looked in to her eyes, so loving, so forgiving, and his pain was forgotten. "Oh, Arwen . . . I don't deserve you . . ."

She smiled at him. "Never mind what happened. Let's just enjoy the day – I'm sure nothing more will go wrong."

He took her in his arms and kissed her, so glad of the way things were turning out after all.

Across the room, Eowyn watched with malice in her eyes and schemes in her mind . . .


	6. Plans Go Arwy

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Thanks to all my wonderful, if few, reviewers, esp. Cerriwen for reviewing me twice! You are all invited to the wedding!

Chapter Six: Plans Go Awry

Elrond met Eowyn on the outer wall. "Well?" he asked. "What happened?"

She pursed her lips. "Nothing. I tried to get in but they were already there. We need an alternative plan of action."

"And your Faramir suspects nothing?"

She bit her lip. "No, I don't think so. I thought for sure he would catch on when I got Eomer to hire the strippers, but no dice. More's the better!"

Elrond stared at the maiden in front of him. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, Eru, you're still funny in the head, aren't you?"

His face lit up with realization. "Are you my FATHER?"

"And to think you're an Elven noble," she muttered. "Listen, I'm Eowyn, remember? We're stopping the wedding together!"

He frowned. "I think I remember. Oh, yes, I do! Galadriel! How's the mirror?"

"I AM NOT GALADRIEL!"

"Oooh . . ." Elrond screwed up his face in concentration. "Eowyn! We're stopping the wedding!"

She sighed with relief. "Good, good. All right, here's the plan: Aragorn should be in his chambers, preparing and washing up. Go and lock him in, or do something so he can't get out. Elven magic or whatnot."

"Right."

"I think your mother-in-law, what's-her-name with the white hair, is beginning to suspect something. I'll take care of her. Then we meet back here to discuss our next step: kidnapping the officiant."

Aragorn pulled on a fresh tunic, humming. His headache was still bad, but he felt much better after seeing Arwen. The cold shower had also helped. 

Just then, he heard a knock on the door. "Enter!"

Legolas came in, followed by a wary Halbarad. Upon seeing him, both gasped.

"Aragorn!" Legolas sounded dismayed. "You dyed your hair!" He pointed to the king's head, several shades lighter that what he had always known.

Aragorn looked confused. "No, I didn't! It's always been this color!"

"You must have! Hair just doesn't DO that!"

Halbarad stepped in. "I think I know. The same thing happened to me once. Aragorn did you bathe this morning?"

"Yes . . ."

Halbarad grinned. "Your hair was always this color! You just washed all the grime out of it!"

Legolas looked relieved. "Oh, I see. How does your head feel?"

Aragorn groaned. "Thanks for reminding me; I had just gotten my mind off it."

The Elf thought. "There must be a remedy somewhere. We can't just let you have a hangover on your wedding day." He turned to leave the room.

Halbarad followed. "Don't forget, ceremony starts in an hour!" He left, winking.

Aragorn laughed. "I'm not going to forget that!"

Almost immediately after the duo had gone, Elrond came in. He appeared focused on something, but stopped short when he saw Aragorn. "Estel! You dyed your hair?"

Aragorn groaned, wondering if he'd be explaining this to everyone. "Just washed it."

Elrond nodded. "All right." Without further ado, he clocked the king on the head with a large stick and sealed the door.

"Lady Undomiel?" A nervous servant popped his head into Arwen's dressing room. "I'm sorry, my Lady, but we have a rather urgent problem . . ."

Arwen turned. "Come in, please! I'm sure it's not so bad . . . " She trailed off, seeing the man's expression.

"I'm so very sorry, Lady, but it seems that more than half the wedding feast has . . . disappeared."

"Disappeared? What do you mean?"

"I . . . I mean it's gone, Lady. Stolen, vanished, the like. Point is, we have not nearly enough to serve all the guests."

Arwen gasped. _Think, _she told herself. _There must be a way. _"Do you have any lembas bread?"

He looked confused. "Lam-bass, Lady?"

She shook her head. "Never mind. Can you salvage the remains?"

"It wouldn't make for a filling meal, Lady."

"Is there time enough to attain more food?"

"I don't believe so."

Arwen began to panic. "How could this have happened? What will our guests eat? Oh, Gran!" she called. "Gran, come quickly!"

Galadriel moved silently down the halls, looking every which way for a trace of Elrond or the blond Rohirric maiden. Not finding them in view, she closed her eyes and mentally scanned the place, trying to sense her son-in-law's presence. She found him on the outer wall, waiting – but he was alone. The lass must be somewhere else, up to a mischief that Galadriel was sure she would not find to her taste. She tried again, and shook her head. The place was full of young blond women. How was she to find, or even differentiate, the one she was looking for?

_Aha!_ Galadriel turned. An innocent-looking young maiden was approaching her from behind. Instinctively she knew that this was the one she'd been looking for.

Eowyn turned the corner, and, seeing the white-haired elf, stopped short. She backed up, waiting for her presence to be acknowledged. None came. _Could she not have noticed me? _she wondered. Moving stealthily, she crept around the corner, a wooden staff drawn. To her amazement, she was able to work her way into striking distance. She raised her staff – 

And with a crack, it was broken in two. Eowyn stared; the elf had not touched it. Whirling around, the elf sent her flying to her knees with a quick snap of her hands. She advanced menacingly.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Eowyn trembled. No longer did a kind-faced grandmother stand before her; now she saw a warrior, hair on ends, with an angry glint in her eyes. "N-nothing!"

"You cannot lie to me, mortal! Your mind is as open as a prairie sky! You've been trying to sabotage my Arwen's wedding!"

Eowyn gulped. "I'll stop, I promise!"

"Estel does not love you! He respects you, surely, but he gave his whole heart to Arwen decades ago! I was right there watching!"

Eowyn sighed, trying to block her mind against this invader. "All right! I promise, I won't bother you any more!"

Galadriel grinned maliciously. "No, you will not!" With a deft hand movement, she sent Eowyn flying into a nearby broom closet and barricaded the door with her strongest magic.

Will Eowyn cause any more trouble for the bridal party? Will Aragorn manage to escape despite his wicked hangover? And who will feed the guest? Stay tuned . . . 


	7. The Runaway Groom

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

A tribute to my reviewers, who number few but inspire me to forge on with my tale! See you at the reception!

Chapter Seven: The Runaway Groom

Arwen breathed in, then out. _Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't – _

"My Lady?" Arwen turned to see Faramir peering hesitantly through the door.

"Oh, hello, Faramir. It is Faramir, isn't it?"

"Yes, my Lady. May I come in?"

Arwen smiled at the man. "Certainly. But do hurry, there's a bit of a crisis afoot."

Faramir grimaced. "I'm afraid I have only bad news, then. Aragorn is missing."

Arwen gasped. "Oh, no! What do you mean, missing?" She thought for a moment. "As in disappeared, vanished? Gone?"

He looked confused. "Yes, my Lady."

Arwen tried to contain her overwhelming stress long enough to piece this together. "He is nowhere? You have looked?"

"I am sure, my Lady. His corridors are sealed and no one answers my knock. He is neither preparing in the chapel nor the banquet hall." He turned to leave. "Have you seen Eowyn?"

She shook her head. "You might try the Hall."

"Thank you, my Lady." Faramir exited swiftly. Arwen sat down and tried to think. SO many things gone wrong! Could it possibly be coincidence, or were greater forces at work?

_It has to be the latter,_ she decided. _But who would sabotage my wedding? Who do I know that would have any motive? Is it the warlord? The steward? The wizard? The gardener? _A light dawned. _My father? But why . . ._

Arwen rushed off, determined to find her father and get some answers.

Aragorn opened his eyes. He blinked once, twice, three times, then sat up gingerly. _I do believe I'm alive! _He looked around, trying to take everything in. He was in his chamber, dressed for the wedding. He tried to remember what happened. _Elrond . . . was Elrond here? _

He tried the door. The knob slid easily enough, but some magical force kept the door from budging. Groaning, he slumped against the wall, his head in his hand. Chancing to glimpse the sky through a tiny window, he gasped. It looked to be nearly time for the wedding! Forgetting his headache, he ran to the door and began banging frantically. "Let me out! Let me out!"

_I'm glad I thought of sound barriers,_ thought Elrond, as he waited in the outer wall. _And things are starting to make sense again. As soon as Frodo throws the Ring in the fire, everything will be all right._

"Elrond!" He turned to see Galadriel, stomping toward him vengefully. "Stop right there!"

"Father!" he cried joyfully. "I knew it was you! That blond maiden couldn't fool me! Now you and I can stop the wedding together, Ada!"

Galadriel surveyed the disheveled elf critically. He had lost all traces of dignified Elrond; she could not begin to imagine what had happened. "Elrond?"

"Yes?" He turned to her with vacant eyes. "I am he. Though I'd rather be Legolas. So much prettier." He went on and on, unconscious of everything around him. "Legolas gets the fans. Legolas gets the girls. And just because I had the Elven pride not to bleach my hair –"

Galadriel groaned shortly. This had gone far enough. Elrond was spoiling his own daughter's wedding day! Probing about in his mind, she began to set things right. _Lord Elrond, dignified and noble! Return to the state whence you were before! _Looking about, she reached the piece of information that had caused her son-in-law's attack and gasped. _That you will forget! _

The power of the Elf-Witch surpassed by far a common head injury. In no time at all she left Elrond, dazed, on the outer wall of Minas Tirith. Soon enough he would gather his senses and come inside to restore order and make things right.

Arwen ran down the hall, the train of her dress streaming behind her. As she rounded a corner, it caught it tore with a long, horrible ripping sound.

Arwen gasped. She looked down at her once lovely dress. She rip was long and thorough, it extended from the train all the way up her hip. Near tears, she gathered her skirts about her and raced back to her chambers. Once there, she collapsed on a nearby chaise-lounge and began to sob. Her dress was ruined, the banquet as well, and her groom was missing. _What a wedding this is turning out to be! I always thought this day would be perfect. _A crystal tear slid down her cheek. _The day I pledge my whole self to my love once and for all. But it's nothing short of a disaster!_

As the elf lay quietly crying, her grandmother came slowly into the room. "Do not cry, love," she said in the Sindarin tongue, "for hope is not yet forsaken. If a hobbit can manage the journey to Mordor for the sake of jewelry destruction, the Evenstar of the elves can surely marry the man she loves as has been planned."

Arwen looked up. "Oh, Gran!" she cried. "You don't understand! My dress has torn, the food for the banquet has gone missing, and Aragorn is nowhere to be found." A great bell sounded from the tower. "That is the wedding bell! I was supposed to be walking up the aisle this very moment! My father was right, this cannot end in happiness!"

Galadriel looked sharply at the elf, who though wise of years, was in truth a young girl who wanted no more than to share her life with her beloved. "Arwen, I am ashamed! Hope did not fail Samwise and Frodo when they were in the darkest despair on the crest of Mount Doom! Hope did not fail the Gondorian when they held against a siege thought impossible to withhold. And hope did not fail your Estel when he stood face-to-face with the King of those long passed, for in his coming the whole of Middle-Earth was saved. For shame, Arwen, lest you let hope fail you now!"

Four hobbits twitched nervously in a small front pew. The church was packed with guests from all corners of Middle-Earth, but their gathering was no no avail. The groom, it was whispered, had disappeared, and the bride was hiding in her chambers. Pippin was much distressed to see Faramir running about in a panic, crying for Eowyn.

"Has anyone seen the White Lady of Rohan? You!" He advanced on Merry. "You know her well! Did the Lady Eowyn say anything to you of her whereabouts?"

Merry cowered under the man's fierce gaze. "No, Lord Faramir! She said nothing!"

The Steward wrung his hands in despair. "Where is she? Do you think . . . no, I refuse to believe that!"

"Believe what?" Everyone turned to see Arwen, the Lady of Rivendell, emerge dressed in a fresh gown of blue silk. "What would you not believe, Lord Faramir?"

"Forgive me, Lady, it was nothing . . ."

"Tell me."

"Well, er, you . . . you don't think that Eowyn and the King have run off together?"

Arwen gasped, her face flushing. "No! How could you suggest such a thing! Aragorn . . . Aragorn would never . . ."

As Faramir looked on helplessly, Galadriel stepped forth from behind the bride. "Lady Eowyn, at least, did no such thing. I myself saw her just moments ago in the powder room."

Faramir's relief was audible. His look changed once again to concern, however, when he remembered the situation at hand. "What of Aragorn, then?"

Frodo looked at Arwen, and for the first time since they had met she looked small and pale, trembling slightly and searching for words. Gathering her dignity, she turned to address the guests. 

"As the present whereabouts of my betrothed are unknown, I regret to inform you that the ceremony with not be taking place as of present." She was trembling, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "I apologize for your inconvenience, and would offer to treat you to the wedding banquet, but it seems that more than half of the food we needed has vanished."

"I wonder how that could have happened!" Pippin marveled obliviously.

Stay tuned, chicas! For in thy next installment many questions may yet be resolved! Will Elrond remember what he's done and come to the rescue? Will Aragorn escape in time to get married? And most importantly of all, what will we eat at the banquet – providing there is one at all??????


	8. A Testament to Hope

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Oh, I love my reviewers! You are all so wonderful!

Chapter Eight: A Testament of Hope

Elrond sat up slowly. His mind felt as if a heavy fog was lifting from its depths. Slowly but steadily, a stream of memories worked their way into his head. Within a few moments, it was done, and the elf stood up, shocked. _I've ruined Arwen's wedding! How could I do this to my only daughter?_ He glanced at the sky. The sun was almost overhead; the wedding was to have started an hour ago. _And I've concealed the groom in an untraceable location!_

He turned and began to run. _These are the last few days I'll ever see my daughter again, _he realized. _And thanks to me, they'll be miserable for her! Whatever could have possessed me to do such a thing – and for that matter, what could possibly have brought on such a fit? I'm an elf; we're immune to things like heart failure . . . what happened the night of the parties? _He shrugged it off, picking up speed. _Arwen will explain to me soon enough. But first, I need to save her wedding! _

Aragorn collapsed against the wall. It was no use. _The bloody wedding was an hour ago, _he realized. _I've missed it. _He sank to the floor, his heart full of dread and despair. _I've missed my own wedding. I've let Arwen down. _The thought was too much for him to bear. He groaned under the combined pain of his hangover and his breaking heart.

"Arwen!" The king's senses sprang to alert when he heard the call. "Arwen!" He recognized the voice of his foster father – but instead of the half-crazed jargon of before, Elrond's voice seemed to have returned to normal.

He leapt up and pounded on the door once more. When no answer came, he collapsed, shaking his head in frustration. Why could no one hear him? "Help!" he cried, with the sense of foreboding that nothing mattered; it was all lost anyway. "Help me!"

A sudden noise shook the chamber. A loud snapping sound; Aragorn could feel it pulling the magic away from the door. It was opening, he was found –

And there was Arwen, bearing down on him like a gift from the heavens. She knelt and he took her in his arms, her sheer beauty and radiance absolving his pain. 

"Oh, Estel!" she whispered, gazing at him was transparent relief. "Estel, I was so worried! It's been the most terrible morning –"

He broke her off with a deep, passionate kiss, a kiss they were lost in, not wanting to be found. She broke away with a smile. "Not such a terrible morning after all." She wrinkled her nose playfully. "Of course, the wedding has been cancelled, the guests irritated, the food missing, and my dress torn, but . . ." She paused, lost in his eyes. "Why do I feel as if none of it matters in the slightest?"

He kissed her again, short and sweet. "Because it doesn't?"

She laughed, trilling musically. "That would be the obvious answer." She rested her head against his shoulder, content to stay forever in his arms.

"Ahem." The lovers looked up, startled, to see Elrond standing in the doorway, most embarrassed. "I believe the term Elladen used last afternoon was 'get a room.'"

Chuckling, the King stood, his lovely bride on his arm. "We're ready to go."

Merry looked at Pippin, wondering if his friend was just tired or merely stupid. "Pip, the reason they have no food for the banquet is because of US!"

Pippin gasped. "You mean we took that much?"

"The fact that it filled half your room was somewhat of an indicator," Sam cut in.

"But we only made six trips . . ." Pippin protested.

Frodo looked sternly at his cousins. "Return the food, or you shall feel the wrath of Nine-Fingered Frodo."

"And Samwise the Brave!" Sam chirped up.

Merry rolled his eyes. "Alas, I have defeated the Witch-King, the head of the Nazgul, but ultimately cower before a lame hobbit and his gardener!"

Sam looked insulted. "I like to think of myself as an Agricultural Monitor," he said.

Pippin seemed to be struggling. "All right, we'll return the food," he conceded. "But only because it's Strider's wedding. Don't expect it to happen again."

"All right, Pip!" Merry said cheerfully. "Why don't YOU go tell Galadriel it was us that took it?"

"What's this?" A bemused Galadriel stood over four whimpering hobbits.

"Please, Lady!" Merry piped up. "The Took took it! I am a Knight of Rohan!"

"Oh yeah?" countered Pippin. "I'm a Tower Guard of Gondor! I have a uniform and everything!"

"Please, young hobbits," Galadriel cut in smoothly, "do not seek to place the blame, but rather to rectify the situation." At her words, Merry and Pippin nodded, and ran off to retrieve their stash.

"Let me out!" Eowyn screamed, banging with all her might on the door of the broom closet. "Faramir! Faramiiiiiiiiir!"

She sighed and slumped over in frustration. She'd been alone in the broom closet for at least two and a half hours, and it had given her time to reflect on her actions. Everything Galadriel said came back to her. _"He respects you, surely, but he gave his heart away a long time ago . . ." So perhaps I was a bit hasty in my judgment. So maybe it was selfish to try and break up Aragorn and not-so-bad-after-all Arwen. _She frowned at the nagging voices in her head. _All right, all right, so I was completely mean and self-absorbed! _She sighed miserably. _I don't deserve to be let out of this broom closet._

"Eowyn? Eowyn!" She perked up at the sound of Faramir's voice, followed by her brother Eomer's.

"Do you know where the powder room is?"

Faramir responded, equally baffled. "Do you know WHAT a powder room is?"

"I'm in here!" she shouted. "In the broom closet!" Why couldn't they hear her?

All of a sudden, the door burst open and she went careening out into the hall, practically knocking over the two men searching for her.

"Eowyn! What on earth happened?"

She opened her mouth to relive her traumatic tale, but over Faramir's shoulder she saw Galadriel looking at her pointedly from a distance. She closed her mouth, resolving to start thinking before she ever opened it again. "Nothing. I was, um . . . powdering."

Eomer ducked his head inside the closet. "So that's a powder room!"

Faramir grinned and shook his head. "I think the wedding is back on. I'll go save us seats."

As he left, Eowyn turned guiltily to her brother. "Was it off before?"

Eomer gulped and took a breath. "Eowyn, you're my sister and I love you, but I just can't go through with this scheme of yours to ruin the wedding. Aragorn's friendship means too much to me."

She smiled as he regarded her warily. "No need. I've worked out my issues – and I may just give Faramir a shot after all."

He grinned. "Just so long as he maintains a three-foot radius at all times."

"Eomer!"

It was his turn to look guilty. "He did promise on threat of death."

As Aragorn and Arwen walked down the hallway, they ran abruptly into the two young hobbits, unfortunately carrying large bowls of pudding. "Oh, no!" Arwen cried as dark chocolate custard began to stain the front of her dress.

Pippin stuttered an apology. "I– I- I'm SO very sorry, my lady!"

Aragorn looked concerned. "Do you want to go change?"

Arwen laughed gaily and waved the hobbits away. "I've waited long enough for this; I refuse to be detained further. The King and Queen of Gondor shall be marry in royally filthy clothing."

Galadriel smiled as they approached the chapel doors. As Aragorn made his way to the front of the church, Galadriel turned to her granddaughter. "When you walk out of those doors, Arwen, you will be a married woman."

Arwen only smiled serenely. "At long last," she said.

Galadriel grinned at her. "Most of the guests from far away have left already, and you have no bridesmaids. Does that upset you?"

"Are you joking? Those wretched girls? Why, I'm glad! Now I won't spend the entire reception debating the fine points of Dwarven stoneware!"

The music began to play. Arwen took a deep breath and stepped down the aisle.

Should I continue with the ceremony and reception or leave it at this? You decide by REVIEWING!

__


	9. Whispers in the Pews

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

Chapter Nine: Whispers in the Pews

Arwen glanced briefly at the people seated in the chapel. All that remained of the hundred guests there had been this morning were her and Aragorn's faithful friends, the ones who cared enough to stick around no matter if the wedding got called off. As she began her trip down the aisle, she caught sight of Aragorn, standing at the front of the chapel and grinning broadly. From then on, try as she might, her eyes could not turn away from the handsome man waiting for her.

She reached the end of her journey and handed her bouquet to a bridesmaid. She felt Aragorn take her hand and she looked into his eyes, succumbing to the happiness his smile radiated. She knew she must look quite a sight; her dress stained with custard and her wrinkled from hasty running. No, it wasn't her dream wedding. But as the priest began to speak, she realized something. _The circumstance may not be ideal, _she thought, grinning blissfully at the man across from her, _but I can't say it's not my dream wedding. After all, here I am, about to be joined forever with the man I love._

Pippin fidgeted and squirmed in his seat. "Merry!" he whispered. "Merry, I can't understand what they're saying!" A ceremonially dressed elf was speaking importantly and gesticulating vehemently at Strider and his bride.

"They're speaking Elvish, Pip," put in Sam, his eyes very wide.

Merry, however, was not as enthralled. "She's wearing that stained dress still? I would have at least changed."

"I wonder what happened," Frodo mused. "Why they couldn't find Aragorn."

"He probably got cold feet, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, still watching intently. "You know how it is."

Frodo laughed. "Do you think you'll get cold feet before your wedding, Sam?" 

"M-my wedding, Mr. Frodo?"

"Yes! Just imagine, soon it could be us standing up at the front of the church!"

Sam's eyes spilled over with happy tears. "Do you mean that, Mr. Frodo? Really and truly? Us?"

Frodo watched Aragorn and Arwen, the happy picture playing in his mind. "Of course, Sam. Rosie will be a beautiful bride. You would have me as your groomsman, wouldn't you? I was silly to assume –"

"Of course, Mr. Frodo!" assured Sam, his heart breaking in two.

"Will this be much longer?" groaned Gimli. He looked over at Legolas, who was watching rapturously and sobbing heavily into a large white handkerchief.

"Shhhhh, Gimli! Respect, please!" cried the elf. "This is a beautiful ceremony."

Gimli let out a great huff. "You're not fooling anyone with that crying of yours, Master Elf! Come on, put down the handkerchief!" Gimli sighed with annoyance as Legolas kept the cloth plastered to his face. "Oh . . . did you get another zit?" the dwarf asked kindly.

Eowyn listened to the Elven priest drone on and on. She had given up on trying to follow his words, and instead was heavily contemplating her situation. _Aragorn is happy and getting married this very instant, so I cannot interfere with that, _she thought miserably. _But it hurts to give up like this. It really does hurt._

She looked at Faramir sitting beside her, his attention torn between the ceremony and the lovely maiden next to him. _It was terrible of me to string him along like this, _she realized. _I thought I was sparing him from the pain, but in truth I was building it up. It's not fair to him; I have to break it off. _She shuddered at the thought, but knew it was the right thing to do. _That doesn't make it any easier. _She liked Faramir; she enjoyed the security and comfort that came with their relationship. She enjoyed talking to him; laughing with him. To end it all would be yet another great loss – all in one day.

_But I have to, _ she admonished herself, _because I mut be fair to him. If I care about him, then I owe him that._

Elrond watched stonily as the priest said the final words. It was done; his daughter was gone from him forever. _I gave her up. I gave her up to a man whose lifetime will pass as quickly as she is used to counting years. Why? _Through his pain and through his doubts, Elrond knew he had done the right thing. _She would have been miserable,_ he consoled himself, _not a maiden at all, but an empty shell. I thought before that to separate them was to spare her from the pain that I know only too well. _He remembered when his wife, Celebrian, had sailed out of his life like a passing breeze. _I could not have done that to Estel. I could not have done that to Arwen._

Galadriel, sitting beside him, gave her son-in-laws hand a squeeze. "Do not worry," she said, not moving her lips but speaking directly into his mind. "You have dine right by her."

Arwen trembled as the priest turned to her. "Do you," he asked her in Sindarin, "do you, Arwen Undomiel, bind yourself to this man, forever, in love and in anger, in sickness and in health, come times of good or times of darkness? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish until death do you part?"

She hesitated for a fragment of a second upon seeing her father's face in the crowd. But looking back at Aragorn, she saw the rest of her life; a life of pure happiness and undying love. "I do," she said, her dulcet words ringing throughout the hall and echoing in her ears. 

The priest repeated his question to Aragorn, who looked at Arwen with a light in his eyes she had never seen before. "I have from the moment I first saw her face," he said, causing Arwen to flush red with joy, the congregation to sigh, and Legolas to sob out loud into his handkerchief. "I do."

Sorry for the short and boring chappie, but it had to be done before we could get back to the good part!!! Coming up next ~ What havoc will be wreaked at the reception? Will Eowyn open her heart and discover that the answer she'd been searching for was sitting next to her the whole time? Who will give the sappiest, most drunken speeches? And, most importantly – will there be enough custard to go around?


	10. Of Custard and Courtship

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

My Wonderful Reviewers ~ (I finally got around to it)

Lady Laswen - Thank you! It's nice to see someone getting in the spirit of the story!

XxPeriwinkleHummingBrdxX - I feel so special!

Cerridwen - You are my most faithful reviewer! Extra custard for you!

Nevdoiel - I have read _The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings _series, and _The Silmarillion_ each many times. However, I understand your frustration completely. I don't understand your first accusation - if elves don't have sex, how do they get children? As for the second one, if you reread Eowyn's conversation with Faramir in the house of healing she says that she wished Aragorn loved her, which I think kind of implies that she loves him. However, you are free to hate, but I assure you, there is no bigger fan of "the book versions" than I.

Queen Arwen - Thank you for reviewing so much! I love your stories!

Imithwennyere - It's on the way, don't fret!

Galadriel-in-disguise - Don't worry, as I have said many times, she's just confused.

Caleb9849 - I'm so glad you think so! Makes me feel smart!

Brunette at Door - My thoughts exactly!

Anamaria Evenstar - Chewy, chewy, chewy, chewy . . . now you're mad, right?

LegosGrl - It's sophisticated humor. I'm glad you liked it anyway!

ME132 - She's not mean, she's not mean, she's not mean . . . oh, you can just read the story! Twisted, hmmmmm . . . I like that!

Eccentric Beauty - Wow, I didn't even mean that to be funny!

If I missed anyone, I hereby give you the right to hang me by the ankles over a pit of sharks. I'd prefer, though, if you just hated me forever. Or if you forgave me!

And here it is . . .

You guessed it: I've now turned my black sights from Aragorn and Arwen and am now attacking in full force poor naïve Eowyn and hapless Faramir. Enjoy the party.

Chapter Ten: Of Custard and Courtship

_So this is what it feels like to be married._ Arwen swayed and steadied herself in Aragorn's arms. After everything that had happened, it felt strangely anticlimactic. Then again, that could be because she was so delirious with happiness.

"Arwen!" She turned to see Galadriel advancing upon her, eyes glistening with rare tears. She embraced her granddaughter. "I will hold the ceremony forever in my memory."

Aragorn smiled at the Elven lady. "It was all made possible because of your interference," he said warmly.

Arwen grinned, recalling the day in Lothlorien when Galadriel had intervened and she looked for the first time upon her beloved's face and found him handsome and strong, as opposed to the eager youth she had known. "Everything I dreamed of then has become reality," she murmured dreamily.

Aragorn's eyes twinkled. "You dreamed that you would be married in a filthy gown to a late groom among deceit and crisis?"

She laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. But I AM off to change my gown."

Aragorn watched his wife float away. His headache had been replaced by a dizzying sensation that he knew he would associate forever with his first moments of marriage. He made his way with Elrond and Galadriel into the banquet hall, where the remaining guests we milling about with a congenial buzz in the air. Legolas, Gimli, and Halbarad approached him, each bearing congratulatory smiled. Legolas was weeping softly into a lace handkerchief.

"Oh, Aragorn! The ceremony was ever so beautiful!"

Halbarad clapped Aragorn's shoulder in friendly affection. "Didn't catch a word, mate. But I'm sure it was brilliant."

The dwarf had his own affairs in mind. "When do we eat?"

The king laughed heartily. "As soon as the food is served, I suppose."

Once more Arwen glided to his side, having changed into a rose muslin gown with remarkable swiftness. "Hello, my love." Se smiled into his eyes as if sharing a private joke.

Gimli advanced on his next target. "Pardon me, Lady, but do YOU know when we eat?"

Arwen shrugged. "I haven't the faintest. Do alert me when you find out."

She did not have Gimli's attention, however. Galadriel had made her way over to the newlyweds, and the dwarf was staring open-mouthed, thrilled to be in the presence of such erethreal beauty. "Many g-greetings, Lady."

She turned and smiled at the stuttering dwarf. "Hello, Gimli, son of Gloin. It has been too long, I'm sure."

Gimli gaped. Just then, Eomer started up one of his heavy metal CDs and the guests flocked like mad to the dance floor. He turned hesitantly to the beautiful Galadriel. "L-lady, do you . . . may I . . . would you grant me . . ."

The elf smiled warmly. "Will you have this dance, Gimli Gloin's son?"

Aragorn watched the dwarf stuble with excitement as he led his much taller partner to the floor, where they began to shake in time to the music.

Celeborn came up from behind, an amused smile playing at his lips. "I never knew Galadriel could move like that!"

Eowyn drooped her head despondently as she listened to Faramir make a vehement point against Eomer's CDs. It hurt even more to see her brother getting on so well with the man whose heart she was about to break.

"Eowyn, what do think?" Her thoughts were interrupted by Faramir himself. "Heavy metal or pop?"

"Pop, definitely." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I hate Eomer's music."

The King of Rohan looked much annoyed. "I can see where I'm not wanted!" He walked off, shaking his head. "No appreciation for music in Gondor! What philistines!"

Faramir laughed and sat down. "Look at Gimli!" Out on the dance floor, the dwarf was breakdancing furiously. 

Eowyn stifled a giggle. "How . . . _cultural_."

Faramir grinned at her expression. "I've heard it's all the rage down in Kheled-zaram."

"No!"

He kept a straight face. "Yes. Respectable, sober dwarves take it up as recreation. And do you know, I've even seen Legolas try."

Eowyn laughed outright. "That I would like to see."

"It's true! Just after the battle at Pelannor Fields we held a small, informal celebration."

"And I wasn't invited?"

"Men only. Trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to come. Anyway, Eomer busted out those horrible CDs, and Gimli, after a few ales, began dancing. Legolas was intrigued – tried it out in the spirit of friendship, he said, but we all knew he couldn't let Gimli do something better than him. So before I knew it, he was on the floor in all sorts of contortions, and just in time to the music."

"Maybe he'll do it again tonight."

"Eh – he made us swear on pain of death not to disclose it."

Her eyes widened. "What do you think you just did?"

Faramir gasped. "Oh! Eowyn," he said jokingly, "don't let this get out, or I'll have a crazed elf after me in the night."

Just then, someone managed to change the melody to the sweet, soulful sounds of a lute, and the crowd disintegrated as King Elessar led his Queen onto the dance floor. After a few moments, Faramir worked up his courage. "Lady Eowyn, would you permit me?"

Eowyn hesitated. She told herself it wasn't wise; she was only going to end up hurting him more. But a greater part of her WANTED to be out there, to hear the music and dance with Faramir; to not break their rapport just yet. _Just one dance, I promise. Then I'll follow my heart and do the right thing._

She let the Steward lead her out to the dance floor.

Pippin squealed with excitement as the first course was laid before him. "Look, Merry! One of our tomatoes!"

Sam watched with distaste as Pippin gulped down the meal. "How can you tell?"

"We took ALL the tomatoes," Merry explained.

Frodo was struggling to eat using a fork. Eventually, he gave in and reached right into the bowl with his hands.

"Manners, Frodo Baggins!" Gandalf came to sit beside the hobbits. "None of that, now! This is a formal occasion!"

Merry watched a crowd of men raise their glasses drunkenly and cry, "For Gondor!" Across the room, another intoxicated crowd responded belligerently. 

"Rohan!"

"Gondor!"

"Rohan!"

"Smelly horses!"

"Dirty men!"

The hobbit shook his head. "Oh, yes, Gandalf. Formal indeed."

If you have any ideas, E-MAIL ME! Or review, it's all the same. Only a few more chapters, chicas, then I gotta finish "A Very Gondor Christmas" BEFORE the 25th. Who wants to read a holiday story in January? Not me.


	11. The Clock Strikes Twelve

Elessar and Evenstar Tie the Knot

By The Last Evenstar

A/N: This is the last chapter. I know, I know, it ends so abruptly. But to tell you the truth, one fic is all I can handle right now. So check out "A Very Gondor Christmas", IF I ever get around to updating it (I will try or perish in the attempt), and take some custard, will you, because we've got WAY too much here. It would be wonderful if you'd review. Help to ease the pain, you know?

Chapter Eleven: The Clock Strikes Twelve

It was an evening of fun and festivity, love and levity. Arwen was dizzy with giddiness after only one drink. _I'm drunk on love,_ she though, giggling._ This is the most magical evening of my life._

Lush and delicious courses came again and again, but Arwen couldn't help notice that each meal was very light on tomatoes, and that Pippin's shirt was stained a suspicious red. There was more custard than anyone could eat, despite the fact that a substantial amount had found a home on her dress. Nearing late evening, the banquet was finished and everyone stopped to adjust their belts by several notches – Gimli required a new one. Arwen sighed with contentment and leaned her head on Aragorn's shoulder. He stroked her hair absently while listening intently to Faramir talk about Gondorian defense tactics.

"When Boromir and I were boys, we had a miniature catapult on the outer wall that was perfect for hurling water balloons. The peasant boys couldn't even get theirs across the road! But Father took it away when we accidentally soaked the Captain of Defense that one time . . ."

Arwen noticed Eowyn, watching Faramir intently and hanging on to his every word. _She's smitten,_ Arwen realized, _but I don't think she knows it._ She gave the blonde girl a warm smile. Eowyn glanced briefly at her and grinned, miming throwing a water balloon at Faramir.

Aragorn interrupted the Steward with a wave of his hand. "That's nothing. Once when I was twelve, Elladen and Elrohir and I were having a snowball fight, and along wanders Glorfindel . . ."

Legolas and Gimli conversed glumly at the other end of the table. "Legolas, tell me what she's doing."

"What?"

"Well, I can't look myself! It would be too obvious!"

"Oh, Gimli, you twit, she reads minds! It's been obvious to her a long time!"

Gimli's face fell. "Then you don't think I have a chance?"

"Considering she's in the corner snogging Celeborn, then no."

Gimli whipped around frantically, only to see Galadriel talking animatedly with Pippin and Beregond. 

"Made you look."

The dwarf slumped down in despair. "Oh, woe is me that I have fallen for an elf, and a married one at that."

"You just need a change of scenery. Go to those Caves you're always blathering on about."

Gimli surveyed the elf critically. "Only if you come with me."

"Ah, so now I'm your Galadriel substitute?"

"Nonsense. Her hair is much wavier than yours."

"Not when I don't blow-dry."

"How on earth could you have found the time to blow-dry when we were on a QUEST?"

"I can do it in my sleep."

"Hmph! Elves!"

Sam raced around the corner, gasping for breath. He spotted Frodo heading his way and let out a great sigh of relief. "Oh, Mr. Frodo!"

Frodo looked confused as he walked back into the banquet hall. "What is it, Sam?"

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, I thought I'd lost you!" He suddenly got very serious. "Don't you EVER do that to me again!"

Frodo sat down at their table and considered his next phrase. "Sam, I think you have a problem."

"What?"

"Look, Sam, I know Gandalf told you not to 'lose me', but that's over. The command is void now! We destroyed the Ring, and you didn't lose me. Do you think it would be possible to lighten up a bit now?"

Tears stung the gardener's eyes. "What are saying, Mr. Frodo? You want me to go away?"

"I told you, back at Amon Hen –"

"BUT I'M YOUR SAM!" His voice softened. "Don't you know your Sam, Mr. Frodo? I'm not just your friend, I'm your BODYGUARD/GARDENER/SIDEKICK/BEST-EVER FRIEND!"

Frodo sighed. "Oh, Sam, don't you think I know that? I just . . . need a little space once in a while."

Sam stared suspiciously. "How often?"

"Do you . . . do you think that just once a week, I could have an hour to myself? You could do something with Rose, or –"

"Mr. Frodo, that's fine," Sam cut in. "If it means that much to you –"

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo began to cry and enveloped his friend in a bear hug.

Across the room, Eomer watched them, shocked. "If anyone has problems, it's those two for sure."

Merry smacked him lightly. "Oh, shut up. They're happy."

Eowyn glanced at the sky. It was nearing midnight, and she had to get this over with. "Faramir –"

"Shhhh," he interrupted, and slipped his arm around her shoulders. It was warm and comforting and, against her will, she drew closer to him. "Look at the stars, Lady. Isn't it a beautiful night?"

She shifted nervously. "I suppose . . ."

"Eowyn." Faramir's voice rang out clearly, but she recognized a great uncertainty. "Eowyn, you said in the House of Healing that you would be my wife. I – I wish . . . well . . . I wish I was certain you were sincere. I know you were up to something this morning, and I'm not going to delve any further into the matter. But I'm asking you here; now –" he paused for breath, "Will you marry me on Sunday?"

Eowyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. _I wish I could, Faramir! But it wouldn't be right . . . _

Or . . .

As she looked into his eyes, the wheels in her mind started to turn. Why shouldn't it be all right?_ Why can't I? I just can't break it off . . . I love his company so much, and his humor, and his touch . . ._

I think I'm in love with Faramir.

Eowyn gasped at her realization. Faramir mistook it and turned away sadly. "I knew you weren't sure."

"No!" Her own voice sounded strange to her ears. "No, Faramir, I will! I do! I love you!"

As Aragorn led her onto the floor for the last dance of the night, Arwen was overwhelmed with the magic and happiness of the night. _I'm married. I'm actually married. All my dreams have come true._

She saw Eowyn dancing with Faramir. _So they found each other. _She turned to the Rohirric shieldmaiden with a smile. "You're next."

Eowyn grinned. "Are you kidding? After everything you went through? We're eloping!"

And they all lived happily ever after . . . until the next morning.

Fin

Review, or you will forced to eat all the leftover custard.


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